Dead Right (Stillwater Trilogy #3)(46)
Author: Brenda Novak

“You don’t know anything, Hunter! It’s possible.”

“Why do you think Grace said she wasn’t molested? For her own sake? Or for yours!”

“You’re fired!” she screamed. “Go to the airport and leave my car in long-term parking. I’ll pick it up later. Use the rest of the money to buy a ticket. I don’t care. I just want you gone!”

She started running. But he caught up with her and, grasping her arm, turned her around. “So I’m the bad guy now?” he asked in frustration. “Or is it easier to blame me than deal with the truth?”

“You don’t know the truth!”

“I know your father might’ve been a pedophile!”

She lifted her hand as if to strike him, but he grabbed her wrist. Then the fight drained out of her and she dropped her arm to her side. “I can’t take it anymore.” She stared up at him, her expression tortured. “I just want—” Her hand rose again, but with a completely different intent. Touching his cheek, she slid her fingers over the line of his jaw, his lips, his chin, as if seeking some kind of solace.

Hunter told himself not to react. The hunger in him was too strong, and she was confused and distraught. But when she raised her eyelids, he could see tears glistening on her lashes. “Tell me it isn’t true.”

He couldn’t. But he wanted to erase the pain, to ease her burdens for a little while. Meeting her mouth lightly with his own, he whispered, “It’s okay, Maddy. You’re going to be okay.”

He’d meant to let it go at that, with a sweet, comforting kiss. But she parted her lips and pressed them to his so quickly and greedily that he was soon cradling her head in his palm as he met the thrusts of her tongue. She responded eagerly, frantically, compelling him to take the kiss even deeper until they were so out of breath they broke apart panting.

“This isn’t wise,” he managed to say. “You’re not thinking rationally. Hell, I’m not thinking rationally. Kissing you like that is making me want…too much.”

She didn’t seem to hear the first part, only the second. Taking his hand, she began to run for the shelter of some trees, pulling him with her.

Ray pushed his shopping cart up one aisle and down the next. He didn’t have much money for groceries. Work was scarce during the winter months, and he liked saving most of his change for the  p**n  sites and the pool hall. But now that he was out and about, he actually felt safer, less trapped. Maybe he should move away, find a new place to live. He’d often wondered if it would come to this.

But where would he go? And what about money? He was barely surviving as it was. He leased his trailer, had nothing but the broken down furniture inside it and his old truck. And he couldn’t sell his truck or he wouldn’t be able to work. Besides, he liked Stillwater. He knew everyone and could only imagine how strange and lonely it’d be anywhere else. Lord knows he couldn’t live any closer to his mother and sister. It’d been difficult enough spending so much time with them the last few weeks. They henpecked him so badly he’d want to kill them inside of twenty-four hours.

No, leaving wasn’t the answer. If he wasn’t here to guard his secrets, the truth might come out. Then the police would come after him no matter where he was. And his mother, sister and friends—everyone—would despise him. Worse, his ex-wife would crow to the world that she’d been right about him all along and he’d live as a hunted man. Or he’d go to prison.

He shuddered. He couldn’t go to prison.

If he was careful, he wouldn’t have to, he told himself. He was getting worked up again, that was all. He just had to lie low, like he’d decided back at the house.

But then he overheard Beth Ann Cole, who worked in the bakery section, talking to Mona Larsen while she bagged a few donuts.

“He’s cute, isn’t he?”

“Gorgeous! But who is he?”

“Hunter something or other.”

“What’s he doing here?”

“He’s that P.I. from California. The one Madeline hired.”

P.I.? Ray had been pushing his cart toward the dairy section, but at this he paused and pretended to consider a box of cookies. A P.I. A private investigator.

Shit!

“God, even his job sounds sexy,” Mona was saying with an excited laugh. “How long do you think he’ll be in town?”

“Until he solves the case, I guess.”

“Well, then, he could be here for quite a while. Maybe we should introduce ourselves.”

“Why not?”

“Who’ve you been seeing lately?” Mona asked, and the conversation veered off the subject that interested Ray, so he moved on. But Beth Ann and Mona weren’t the only ones talking about recent developments. When he went through the checkout, Lizzie brought up the investigation.

“Did you see the flyer?” She motioned with her head to indicate a blue sheet of paper taped above her register.

Ray’s eyes weren’t what they used to be. He leaned closer so he could read the small print.

Please stop by the police station to view pictures of two pairs of girls’ panties found in my father’s Cadillac this past week. I’m offering a $500 reward to anyone who might be able to identify who they belonged to or offer any other information on their origin. Let’s finally discover what happened to my father—and your pastor, friend and neighbor. Thanks for your help. Madeline Barker.

Five hundred dollars? That would have everyone in town traipsing down to try their luck.

Anger and panic swirled together, creating a deadlock inside him. Damn Madeline Barker. Ray had wanted to include her in the fun he and Barker had had with Rose Lee and Katie, but the preacher wouldn’t hear of it. As far as he was concerned, Madeline was too pure to be defiled. But she deserved the same treatment, and this was proof. Barker had used Ray’s daughter easily enough.

The anger coalesced, curling through his veins like smoke…Anger that Barker could protect his own daughter while using his. Anger that Madeline, of all people, would be a threat to him.

“Are you going to go over and take a look?” Lizzie asked.

Ray nodded. As frightened as he was, he had to appear to do his part. Then he had to stop Madeline from pushing the investigation any farther.

Even if it meant staging another accident.

Madeline didn’t care that she’d left her car on the highway. She didn’t care that she’d slept with only one other man in her life. Or that she’d known Hunter Solozano for only a couple of days. She was hurting so badly, she had to end the pain. And when he touched her, it was gone.